"Better safe than sorry," I nodded.
"What do you intend to do with those three?" Gavin asked.
"Phil and Glen will take care of it," Winkler still wasn't meeting my eyes. I didn't know how I felt about that. I didn't say anything, though. Gavin handed the keys to the kidnappers' truck over to Winkler, who accepted them with a nod. "Why don't you go get a drink?" Winkler suggested. He wanted us out of the way while Phil, Glen and Davis did whatever it was they were going to do. I didn't want to hang around to find out what that was either, so getting the hell away sounded like a good idea.
"Come on," I grabbed Gavin's arm and pulled him out of the house. We drove the Volvo. It was the car the day staff used and not nearly as nice as the Jaguar, but I didn't want anything that smelled like those three men around me. Gavin didn't argue when I climbed into the driver's seat. We drove for a while, eventually parking in a little spot that overlooked Lake Hefner. It was March seventh, a Saturday and fairly calm if a little cold out as I watched gray water lap the lake's edge. Gavin sat silently beside me. For a while, anyway.
"What was your life like, before?" he asked. I went still with fear. "What life before?" I answered his question as evenly as I could with one of my own, keeping my eyes on the water. Gavin didn't reply. I might have given anything at that moment to be able to discuss my past freely with someone—perhaps ask for advice or even a little sympathy. That, as far as I knew, was impossible. I had a secret to guard, one that could get me killed if I breathed even a partial sentence of it. No matter how much I trusted or distrusted someone, they weren't going to pry that secret open. If I wanted to die, I knew how to do it now. I also knew how painful it was going to be but it would likely be over in a matter of minutes. I knew how quickly my skin had blackened and melted while an early morning sun spread fingers of light across an Oklahoma wheat field. From that point forward, I didn't think I would ever look at wheat fields the same way.
That's what I ended up saying instead. "You know, I'm never going to look at a wheat field the same again," I said. "I think I'm always going to see the dirt I was digging through after I heard Winkler kicking the end of the toolbox with his feet. If I hadn't seen a little bit of reflection off the Jaguar's tail light where it was buried in a ditch, I would never have found him and he'd likely be dead now."
"How did you get the car out of the ditch?" Gavin latched onto another portion of my story that would have to be explained away.
Lying isn't something I like doing, but I lied shamelessly to Gavin. "A farmer came along with a tow bar on his truck. He helped me get the car out after I told him I'd swerved to miss hitting a deer."
"I hope that mud pack you were wearing helped your skin," Gavin almost smiled.
"Hmmph," I grumbled. "I've never heard of Oklahoma's red dirt being good for much of anything in that department. Did you know they have a rattlesnake roundup every year in several Oklahoma towns?" I asked, deliberately changing the subject. "Sometimes I feel sorry for the rattlesnakes." I spared a glance for him, but he was watching the water now.
"Perhaps the snakes should mark their calendars and arrange to be out of town during those times," Gavin said, his mouth quirking a little as he turned toward me.
"Well, there's an untapped market," I retorted. "Snake calendars. With snake cell phones and MP-3 players after that. Of course they can only pay scale." Gavin just held his head, the joke was so bad. "Sorry," I apologized. "Didn't mean to give you a headache."
"Take me out to the wheat field," Gavin said suddenly. I studied his face briefly and blew out a breath. The mask was back in place.
"All right," I said, starting the Volvo and putting it in gear. We shouldn't have gone. I had to drive past the turn-off; the silver pickup was parked on the edge of the wheat field and Phil, Glen and Davis were all out there digging, with three bodies lined up beside the original gravesite. "Fuck," I muttered as we slowly drove past. I was hoping they hadn't seen us.
"Don't worry about it," Gavin said softly. I was shaking, I know. Maybe he was used to this sort of thing but I sure as hell wasn't. When we drove into Yukon, Gavin asked me to pull over and he switched places with me. I think if I hadn't been vampire, I would have lost anything I'd eaten in the past few hours. As it was, I just hunkered down in my seat, pulled my knees up to my chest and stared out the window on the way home.
Chapter 7
"Honored One, the primary has performed past expectations. She found the three who kidnapped the secondary using what little she had at her disposal, including scent and deduction skills. I am amazed that she managed to solve that, yet remains ignorant of the fact that one of her own kind is never more than a few yards away most of the time. A fascinating paradox. Work has also slowed on the project. Will continue to keep you informed.
G."
* * *
"Pack up, baby sis wants to go on spring break." Those were the first words Winkler spoke when I walked into the main kitchen. Davis had been waiting on Gavin and me the minute we'd come away from the guesthouse, informing us that there was a meeting in the kitchen. Fortunately, I'd already sneaked out to feed.
"Where are we going?" Gavin's arms were crossed tightly over his chest.
"Port Aransas, Texas. One of the safer places for spring break, actually." Winkler was smiling. Maybe he could smile the day after having three men killed, but I couldn't. Yeah, I know they'd pretty much condemned him to death, but still. "We have to be at the airport in a couple of hours. The private jet will be there waiting for us."
Private jet. Winkler had a private jet. Maybe it was time for me to borrow somebody's computer and look him up on the internet. Instead, I grumbled the entire way to the guesthouse and even while I was throwing my meager supply of clothing into the roller bag.
"Stop complaining." Gavin stood in my half-open doorway, watching while I flung my six pairs of jeans into the bag. "Do you have any extra shampoo?"
Somehow, he must have known that I always buy in bulk. It saves future trips. Stalking into the bathroom, I pulled the full bottle from beneath the sink and brought it to him. "There," I said, plopping it into his hand. "Anything else? I have extra deodorant, conditioner and socks."
"No on all three counts," he replied, his beautiful brown eyes almost smiling. With Gavin, an almost-smile is as good as a guffaw from anyone else.